A Helping Hand
by TheSeventhCastaway
Summary: Yeah, the title sucks. But the story doesn't. Harry, who is helping George with the Patronus Charm, suggests that George should talk to Hermione about Fred-having experience with her parents gone and all. Charlie thinks something is going on between the two, but what do they know? R&R please! Rated T for a bit of..ehem, colorful language and stuff like that.
1. Chapter 1

**Hullo! How are you? ~Sandie, who is in an exceptionally good mood today! c:**

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"Ugh!" George plopped down on a comfy couch. "It won't work! It never did, since the war!"

"Oh, c'mon, George. You can do this. Just think of a happy memory. It could be a fantasy, not reality, if you want. The feeling just has to be real." Harry assured him. He had been tutoring George for weeks on the Patronus charm, and it always failed.

George shook his head. "Fred took all my happy memories away, Harry. I couldn't even think of a fantasy without him. It would be like there was something missing."

"Look, George, if you want, Hermione could help you out with this." Harry told him. "She had trouble with it then, she has trouble with it now. Maybe you could talk about it with her. She lost her parents. That will loosen you up, and maybe it will work this time. Okay?"

George sat up, cocking a brow at Harry. Hermione. He was nervous, he'd rather have Harry as his mentor. Well, Hermione had never done anything more to him than confiscate some Canary Creams.

A sharp pain went through his chest; he couldn't think of any more inventions without his twin. Maybe he _did _need this little meeting with Hermione.

"I'm not going to be there," Harry winked. "I'm going to tell her to come by tomorrow. That fine with you?"

"Wait, you're not going to be here? Why not?" George protested.

"Because I know you'd like to be alone with her. You've wanted to since she and Ron broke up. _Don't deny it. _Plus, I have a meeting with Kingsley." Harry chuckled.

George rolled his eyes. "As if I'd want Ron's leftovers." But inside, his heart was drumming against his ribs. Ah, gods, how was he going to deal with this?

"Sure you don't," Harry's tone suggested that of course George did. George scowled at him.

"And," Harry added, "I suggest that you clean up the place a bit. I have to go. But remember-she's coming tomorrow, okay?"

George nodded, knowing that he couldn't give Harry a good enough excuse. He bit his lip.

"'Bye," Harry disapperated with a _pop._

George's hand hung in mid-wave. He let it drop with a sigh. Okay, he admitted to himself. He liked Hermione. So what?

So what if the crush started since he was fifth year? So what if she dated his younger brother? So what if he used to remind himself that she was happy, she was with Ron, he shouldn't make a move on her?

So what if he never told Fred, but George could tell that he knew?

He looked around his flat. _I suggest you clean up the place a bit, _Harry said.

A stack of dirty plates was on top of his counter, by the sink. George lazily flicked his wand, levitating around one plate. It fell in the sink with a crash. He was always rubbish at spells like this.

_This is hard work, _he thought. _I need someone to help me out. _

_Ron is out. He'd ask me why I was tidying up and he'd get jealous. Harry out, he just left. That'd be rude. Hermione out, of course. Angie is playing Quidditch abroad, Lee with her, and Alicia with her husband. Bill in Romania. Ginny with Harry, probably. I could pop up in the middle of their snog. _He grinned, remembering his greeting just as their lips were about to meet. "Morning," he had said. _Percy is working. Mum is too busy. Dad in the Ministry...that only leaves Charlie._

George propped himself up with his hands. He walked over to his owl, which nipped his hand-"Ouch! Damn bird,"- and cooed happily. It swirled around his head immediately once he opened the door to its cage.

George swirled his wand a bit, levitating a simple, brown quill. It scratched George's untidy scrawl on a piece of parchment as he dictated his letter.

_Dear Charlie,_

_Please get your arse over here in my flat, I need your help._

_I REALLY need your help._

_Did I mention that you're my favorite brother?_

_Or something like that. Just please come over here!_

_~George_

He took the parchment, curled it up into a scroll, and tied it together with a blue ribbon. He attached it to his owl's foot and he sent it out the window.

Sure enough, Charlie appeared in his fireplace about 20 minutes later. He brushed off some ash from his face and shirt. He wiped his hands on his jeans.

"What's up?" Charlie grabbed a cookie from George's cupboard. He shoved it in his mouth, speaking with crumbs spraying out. "You sounded like you were being ambushed by a group of hot girls. But then that wouldn't be a problem, would it?"

"Bugger off," George glared. "Pass me a cookie, will you?"

Charlie handed him one, chocolate smearing his hands. "What do you need help with?"

George's eyes sweeped over his dirty flat. "I need you to help me clean up." He told his brother.

"Ah!" Charlie smirked. "Maybe there _is _a group of hot girls coming over. Why are you cleaning up?"

George looked tired; he was far too weary to have this conversation, convince Charlie that he didn't fancy Hermione, and to clean up. But he had to do it, of course. He was going to kill Harry for this.

"Hermione's coming over because Harry said it would help if I talked to her." George explained. "And this is not an appropriate place to have Miss Prissy Perfect, is it?"

"Either that, or..." Charlie winked suggestively.

"Ah, God, Charls-" George plucked a cookie from his brother's hand and bit into it. "I don't like her. I won't remind you ever again, so better not mention it."

"Okay, okay," Charlie held up two hands to show his surrender. "I'll help you. On one condition."

"What?"

"Y'know cute new girl who works in your shop?" Charlie leaned against the wall casually and grinned. "Get me her number, will ya? What's her name again?"

"Marley Clayten. I'll do it." George rolled his eyes. "But when she asks me how 'cute you are' as she always does, I'll say you look like a Gnome's behind."

"Deal." Charlie scowled. "But she won't believe that once she sees me," **{A/N: Who doesn't love Charlie?} **

* * *

About a million spells later, the flat was squeaky clean.

"Too clean," said George. He splattered some honey on a shiny plate and mixed it with chocolate syrup. He licked it off. There was still a blob of honey and chocolate, but he left it in the sink. Charlie wrinkled his nose.

"Better," George announced. "Thanks for the help, Charls."

"Would you stop calling me that?" Charlie ruffled his younger brother's hair. "Have fun with Hermione. Not too much fun, though."

"Charlie," George groaned.

"I was just kidding," Charlie stepped in the fireplace. He took a pinch of floo powder from the pot beside him. "But seriously, George, don't let her go. She's all you need."

_All I need? _George wanted to ask what the hell he was talking about, but he had already flooed away.

_She's all you need._

George snorted as he walked toward his bed room. What did he know?

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**Next chapter coming up- This is only a two chapter story!**

**R&R pleaseee. **

**Apples for those who do! (invisible, of course.)**

**~Sandie**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! What's up? ****~Sandie**

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The next day, George heard his name being called. He turned in his bed and groaned, twisting the sheets. He grabbed his pillow and shoved it over his head.

"George!" there it was again. Gah. It almost sounded like Charlie. It was just a dream. Dream Charlie came to get some more cookies.

He felt shaking, now; why did he feel shaking? Someone was shaking his shoulders. "Georgeee!" now the voice was a gravelly high pitched one. It was a man faking a feminine voice, and failing terribly. "You're late for our snog!"

_That _made him sit up. "What the hell?" he glowered at Charlie, who stood above him, grinning and batting his eyelashes profusely.

"George!" Charlie moaned. "George! It's Hermione! You're late for our snog!" How on _earth _could you be late for a snog?!

"Bugger off, Charls," George growled and collapsed back in his bed, facedown. "How'd you get in?" he grumbled, his voice muffled by the blankets.

"I have my ways," Charlie said. George could almost feel his smirk.

"Okay, so you flooed here. Why?" George asked.

George knew that he was right about the floo part-Charlie sagged against the wooden pole of his four-poster bed. "I'm here to say thanks about Marley. That girl is ho-ot! I am _so _going to-"

"_Do not go there," _George warned him. His face contorted into one of pure disgust. "Gross. Spare me the details."

"Well, thanks again," Charlie chuckled. "Did you know that her favorite color is pink? How cute is that?"

"I know. It's so bloody cute that she wears tiny pink tops and skirts half the size of a piece of parchment. To work. Everyday. And she refuses to don our uniforms. Very, very cute." George turned on his back, frowning at his brother. "Are you sure you should be dating her? She is the kind of person who would date a person just for the sake of saying so."

"You don't understand our love," Charlie announced dramatically. "Anyway, what time is your thingy with Hermione?"

George pinched the narrow bridge of his long nose. "Hell, I don't know. Anytime, I think,"

Charlie's round hazel eyes widened. They were so unlike George's, which were almond-shaped and a light blue. He was also a bit taller and he had a stubborn and square chin just like Ginny's. His shoulders were broader, and of course Charlie was more muscular and stonger. Red hair and freckles were where the two brothers' similarities ended.

"You're kidding," Charlie gaped. "She could be coming anytime, and you're still in your bed."

"Oh _shit_,_" _Realization creeped into his face. He wrenched himself away from his comfortable bed and looked down at himself. He had lines where the bed sheets marked him on his bare chest and arms, and his boxers were dotted with little orange _W's_ and sparks.

George looked up. "Man, man, if she sees me like this-"

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind that look-"

"Oh, shut _up, _Charls. This is serious," George pulled at his hair. "Um, um, shower! I need a shower!"

He ran to the bathroom, abandoning Charlie. He locked the door behind him.

**{A/N: Okay, I am so not doing a shower scene or whatever because I am a girl and I respect George's naked rights c:} **

He showered as fast as he could and grabbed a towel from the side. He wrapped it around his waist and stared at the man in the mirror.

He saw someone he recognized but was a stranger at the same time. That was because he also saw his brother. A jolt of pain went through his chest.

The man who stared at him was flushed and jittery. His pale skin seemed so washed out compared to his vibrant, mussed up, flaming hair. His hair was dripping wet. His reddish freckles was spread out carelessly over his cheeks and nose. His freckles were also speckled on his shoulders, legs and arms. His sky-blue eyes looked so carefree in front but you can easily see the pain at the back. He seemed so flawed compared to her.

George picked up his toothbrush and put some toothpaste on it. He stared in the mirror, foam dripping off his chin, with tired eyes. He rubbed the sleep out of them and turned on the faucet. He cupped the tap water in his hand and sucked it in his mouth. He gargled and spit, washing the toothpaste off his jaw.

George unlocked the door and walked out. He whipped his head to the side, spraying water droplets on his face. "Charlie?" he called. "Charrrlieeee!"

His brother was gone. George strode over to his bed to find a small pile of folded clothes and a note.

_George, _it read.

_Wear these. These are the only clothes that I found girl-worthy in your closet. The rest look like they have been in the trash of an ogre for the past few years. I know it's just a small meeting but you have to prepare well. She was a little miss perfect prefect after all._

_By the way-wash the rest of your clothes, will you?_

_-Charlie_

George snorted at his brother's cheekiness.

He picked up the clothes that Charlie had chosen for him. A plain purple t-shirt and a pair of jeans that Ginny had given him for his birthday last year. His sneakers were propped up on the side of the bed. They were now clean; not muddy and frayed at the laces like he remembered. Charlie must have charmed it.

George threw open his closet door and skimmed through the hangers. There really wasn't anything that was not stained, ripped, or too small for him. He sneered.

He put on some underwear and the jeans. He pulled the shirt over his head and glanced at the mirror in front of him.

As usual, his chest hurt. The only thing that he could differentiate between him and his twin was his missing ear. His mouth quirked up slightly at the end. _I'm holey. Get it? _

_Now you are._

He shook his head and looked around for his wand. He took it and twitched his wrist simply. His hair was now perfectly dry. He smiled grimly at his reflection. _At least one twin got to stay handsome, _he thought to himself wryly.

George kept his eyes trained on the glass in front of him. His hair stuck out at the sides, as usual. He rummaged through his drawers in his dresser and pulled out what he had needed.

A comb.

He blew some dust off it. How long has it been since he had used it? Since Bill and Fleur's wedding? Probably.

George raked it through his hair. The plastic comb got stuck in the knots, and he pulled it until it got through. He never knew that brushing your hair hurt so much.

He lowered his head slightly so he could see his hair in the mirror. The parting was jagged and zig-zagged. It looked like Harry's scar. He quickly fixed it to make it a straight line.

When he tilted his head up, he wrinkled his nose at what he saw. His clothes were casual, but his hair looked like he had been to a wedding. This didn't look like George Weasley at all!

He mussed up his hair with his hands, despite the doubt at the back of his brain.

_Better._

* * *

**WHAT!**

**THAT'S IT?**

**I THOUGHT THAT GEORGE AND HERMIONE WERE GOING TO HAVE A HEATED SNOG!**

**Yeah, well, hehe. It turns out that there shall be three chapters-sorry. c: Coming soon to a computer near you! Promise. I swear on the River Styx!**

**Thanks for the reviews, guys. Apples for those who do?**

**~Sandie**


	3. IMPORTANT

**GUYS PLEASE CHECK OUT MY NOTE IN MY PROFILE**

**THE VERY END.**

**IT'S IMPORTANT TO SHOW YOU WHY I HAVEN'T BEEN UPDATING.**

**SORRY FOR INCONVENIENCE AND THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS!**

**Super duper sorry! I miss writing ;_;**

**~Sandie**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! Sandie is back. Camp was great c: I dressed up like a girl Leo!**

**And yes, with suspenders HAHAHAHAHA**

**Sorry for not updating! **

**So, here, I reward you with this chapter.**

**~Sandie**

* * *

_Ding-dong._

George whirled around. Hermione. It must be.

He walked toward the door and bit his lip nervously. But what was there to be nervous about? It was just his little brother's best friend. Why would he care about Hermione?

He turned the doorknob. "Hello, George," Hermione smiled. In a t-shirt and knee-long shorts, she still seemed to glow.

"Hi."

Hermione was obviously waiting for something else, but George just stood there. He shifted his weight from one foot to another.

She cleared her throat politely. "May I come in?"

"Oh! Yeah, of course." he laughed nervously. Hermione smiled.

She entered his flat, gazing around the room. It was vibrant and bright, with purple wallpaper. Posters and pictures of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' products hung on the wall. A picture of Fred and George was framed on a bookshelf, which held potions books. Hermione held the light blue frame in her hands and grinned sadly. Her eyes clouded over. "I miss him too, you know."

"You do?" George watched her place the picture back. "Neither of us were ever as close to you as Ron and Harry."

"Yes, that's true," Hermione nodded slowly. "But he really was a great wizard. He could have done a lot. I'm just glad we didn't lose both of you."

"I'd be happier if it was me." he grumbled. Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"Don't say that!" Her eyes were wide. "Never, ever regret your life, George. It was given to you as a chance."

He couldn't help himself. "What chance?" he spat. "To have pain? To have a half of me die? To suffer?"

"To love." she said.

George didn't say anything. He sank down in a seat close by. Hermione sat in a stool across him.

"George," she sighed. She looked very tired. The lines along her eyes made her look older, but not much. "I'm not going to say some stupid advice like 'Everything happens for a reason.' You don't know how many times I've heard that."

George could relate.

"What I'm going to say is that you miss him. I understand." she shook her head, her curls almost bouncing. "How do you think I felt when I searched for my parents and never found them? I cried for several weeks. I never got over it. No one can just _forget _about something so important. But I have accepted their death long ago. They're dead. But the memory will never be."

George knit his brows together. "Some people don't know how hard it is."

"But I do." Hermione smiled grimly. "Listen. You can't do the patronus charm, right?"

He raised his brows and nodded. "Pathetic, isn't it?"

"Not at all." Hermione protested. "I still have a hard time with it. It's a very advanced spell."

"I'm a grown man, Hermione." His eyes held hers in a steady gaze. They were both leaning forward toward each other. He noticed that her eyes were a light, melting brown. The iris was ringed with a strip of gold. A few flecks of the same color were sprinkled around it.

"And I'm a grown woman." Hermione's lips tugged at the corner. "Just close your eyes."

"Hermione-" he started.

"George," she seemed to hesitate a bit. "Close your eyes."

"It won't-"

Hermione put one finger over each eyelid and pushed them gently. They stayed closed.

"Good." Hermione murmured. "Think of a paradise. With him. Imagine that there was never any war or any Voldemort. No deaths. You're working with Fred in the shop, laughing at jokes."

It seemed so simple to what he usually envisioned. What he mostly did was just imagine himself dying instead and watching Fred live happily.

He did as he was told.

"Try it." She urged.

His eyes flew open. Hermione handed him his wand and he murmured the spell.

A small string of silver flew out of the tip. **{that sounds SO WRONG} **His forehead was lined with worry and beads of sweat popped up on his forehead. He wiped it away with his free hand.

With a defeated grunt, George sighed and let the wand drop. "It didn't make any patronus. It wasn't strong enough."

"What would be?" she asked him.

"If I knew, I would have done it by now." George retorted. He realized what he said. "Sorry, I'm just really..."

"It's fine." she answered, but he saw her cringe a bit. "Let's take a rest."

"Do you want anything?" George offered. "A drink?"

"Yes, please. If you have some butterbeer, that'd be great." she tucked a bushy curl behind her ear.

"I'll be right back." George pushed the door to the kitchen open and it swung behind him. His kitchen was a simple one, not nearly as decorated as the living room. The walls were a dark blue. Along the ceiling were little white dots, like stars.

He grabbed a glass and a bottle of butterbeer from the muggle refrigerator. It was one of the best inventions that Arthur had suggested for him. It kept all the contents cold and unspoiled.

He poured out the golden brown liquid from the bottle and to the glass. His hands trembled slightly and the bottle crashed to the floor.

"George!" Hermione's voice. She ran into the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" She immediately started fussing over him. She shoved his head, not too gently, to the left and right. "Did you get hurt?"

"I'm fine. Really." He liked the feel of her hands on his face. "I just dropped the bottle. It's okay."

"Good." Hermione crouched down and picked up one big shard of glass. "I'll clean this up. You go to the living room and take a break."

"But..." He argued lamely, glancing at the crushed glass.

"Go." She ordered.

Instead of answering, he squatted down beside her and plucked a scrap from the tiled floor. He glanced at Hermione. A ghost of a smile played at her lips, which was probably a good sign.

They continued doing that, getting the large pieces before the small ones. They'd get the little ones later, they might cut their hands. But George wasn't really focusing on the glass. His eyes were firmly trained on Hermione.

"So," Hermione let the 'o' linger in the air. "Uh,"

"You're thinking of my patronus," George guessed glumly. "Aren't you?"

"Maybe." she admitted. "I'm just wondering what animal it would be."

"A mouse, probably."

"I seriously doubt it. Something powerful, or smart, or..." her voice trailed off. She stared at straight at his eyes.

"Hermione," George said quietly and slowly. "I need a happy memory for the patronus charm. Right?"

"Y-" her voice got caught in her throat. She cleared her throat. "Yes."

"Give me one." was all he responded with. He leaned forward and her lips were pressed against his. She melted in his arms with a sigh. Her hands crept up to tangle themselves in his tangled hair. She mussed it up, not that it needed the help. George could feel her heart against his. They were both beating rapidly in unison.

They pulled apart. "Try it." Hermione told him.

George stood up, wobbly. He felt like his world was tilting sideways. He managed to pull out his wand. "Expecto Patronum,"

And nothing came out.

* * *

**Yeah. **

**So, uh, that's it! **

**Nothing came out. Yep. **

**Well, at first, it was supposed to work, and it was going to be a dolphin or a lemur or something. But then I saw this picture that he was never able to create the patronus again, ever. So that's pretty much what happened here. **

**Anyway, what do you think would be George's patronus? I'd like to know what you guys think about it. c:**

**BY THE WAY, THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS SO MUCH! Love you guys! -virtual hug and gives you warm, virtual cookies with all the gooey melted chocolate and all-**

**Read my other stories? ;) hehe.**

**~Sandie**

**PS: BooksAreLife22 DUDE UPDATE I'M SERIOUS PLEASE NOT KIDDING RAWR**


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